The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1887-12-28

WIFI llldJ COQueltlSn all Ihd1 OdihO oO
natural to her.
| cannot tell you what tempted me to
follow them; it must have been some
evil genius. Slowly / followed down
the pathway, taking every precaution,
however, not to be observed. Seated
upon a little rustic bench, l could
see every movement of my lover and
Kathleen.
How lovely she looked standing in
the orchard, the sunlight falling athwart
the lovely upturned face, on which
smile rested Never was seen fairer
vision. Her sleeve of soft texture fall
ing back, showed the shapely, out
stretched arm.
Sometimes a peal of merry laughter
would fall upon my ear. They did not
miss me-not even Robert. He was
content with Kathleen.
The basket was full to overlooking,
and still they fingered. One bunch of
luscious grapes-the last gathered-was
in Roberts hand. He stopped to put
it with the others, when their eyes met,
their hands touched.
Was | dreaming? Alas, no! / saw
him stoop and kiss her fondly.
l waited no longer. With cry of
pain turned and fled to the seclusion
of my own room, where sobbed out
the troubles of my young heart, with
only God to hear me.
went away quite unexpectedly. |
was home-sick, | told Aunt Martha. |
left letter for Robert, giving no ex-
plauation of my conduct, simply telling
him it was better we should part.
was proud girl, and would not
stoop to acknowledge rival.
l remember taking the ring he had
given me from my hand, and what
struggle it cost me to place it with that
letter-the last letter that | should ever
write to Robert.
/ came home to mother, who was
quite an invalid and needed all my care.
never heard from Robert, save once,
through Aunt Martha, who wrote:
"Of course, Matte, you've not for
gotten Robert, whom, to speak candidly,
you treated rather unkindly. He has
gone to London to practice medicine.
He is doing we'll"
An old newspaper had fallen into my
hands, in which was an account of
brilliant reception. Among the guests
were the names of Dr. Robert Preston
and wife. knew it was Robert and
Kathleen, l made no inquiries, and
receiving no further information, took
it for granted that Aunt Martha's kind
ness of heart prevented her from again
referring to the past l closed my
heart forever.
The world will never know me as a
disappointed woman, | thought, flatter-
ing myself that l had quite succeeded in
deceiving humanity in general, until the
gossip had come upon me with her idle
words, bringing to life the bitter past
that thought | had buried years ago.
" Going to church service, Miss Ken
wood?"
1t was my neighbor that asked the
question, Marcia Hall, dear little girl,
with the utmost faith in mankind in
general.
smiled family as 1 caught sight of
the new bonnet with its dainty ribbons,
evidently gotten up for the new curate.
/" Young and foolish" thought l.
Wait until she's siX-and-twenty and I'll
wager she will not buy new bonnet
for all the new curates in the town.
Slowly we walked to church on that
bright Sunday morning, Marcia chat
ting gayly, and l, dressed in the plainest
of dresses, walking silently beside her.
had not fully recovered from Mrs.
Briggs unkind remarks, and was de-
termined to show her my disinclination
to I" set my cap," as she termed it, by
appearing in an exceedingly unbecom-
ing gown. | was really disappointed
on catching last glimpse in the mirror
to find that, notwithstanding my plain
toilet and my siX-and-twenty years,
was still pretty woman, and to hear
my mother say, as | stopped to kiss her,
=" How well you are looking, Mattel"
How crowded the little village church
was! Filled to overlooking. Every one
was there, even that hateful Mrs. Briggs.
| caught glimpse of the great poke
bonnet as | walked quickly to my seat.
They were singing as we entered,
yet was embarrassed at coming late to
be gazed at by the entire congregation.
sank YEARLY among the soft cush-
ions, gladly taking refuge behind a
huge palm fan kindly proffered by
portly old gentleman beside me.
Now hush, a slight fluttering among
the congregation, rustic of garments,
with now and then subdued whisper,
as the pulpit was rolled close to the
chancel and the new curate assembled.
He's just lovely" whispered
Marcia, pulling softly at my sleeve.
q" Do look at him, Miss Kenwood"
l kept my eyes downcast. If every
woman in the congregation cast glances
of admiration | was determined to do
| otherwise.
" Am l my brothers keeper" was
the text.
Clear and distinct came the words of
the speaker.
The first words had caused my heart
to beat wildly. How like that voice of
long ago, that rich, soft voice that had
pleaded for love! | listened like one
in dream, until raised my eyes to
see before me-Robert Preston.
Yes, Robert Preston. Changed, TO
be sure-not the bright, boyish face of
long ago. There were lines of care
and suffering on it now, while the dark
hair was streaked with silver.
Was Kathleen dead? | wondered.
Had he given up his practice? Was he
happy?
Fifty different things crowded upon
my memory.
Why had fate thrown us once more
together after my bitter struggle to
forget?